In between the lines
by breakingwalls
Summary: Maya/Dan. The untold story of what happened after it was over. Chapters 5 and 7 are rated M.
1. Chapter 1

The first time he admits to himself he might be in love with her they're in a cia black site in yet another interrogation session. He squints at the sun, decides to go back to DC because his monkeys are gone and he's so frustrated, so goddamn saturated of this place. He needs to get out. He's taught her everything he knows, given her every piece of advice he can think of already, yet he can't shake off the feeling that he's leaving her behind, alone and unprotected. It's bullshit, he knows, she can take care of herself just fine. He's in love, but it's not enough to make him stay, because he's so tired of pretending his feelings towards her haven't crossed the professional line long ago and the feeling of hopelessness he gets when he thinks that not even once she has given him any sort of sign he sees him as more than a colleague is just crappier than all of his interrogation sessions put together. And his fucking monkeys are gone. He tells her, eyes strained on her face to catch any sign of... well, emotion. But she's nothing if a little surprised, her face stony when he tells her to be careful, when he invites her to come with him in a last attempt of eliciting a reaction. He doesn't go back to Pakistan with her.

* * *

The last time he tries to make himself forget about her, he's watching one of the characters of some old tv show rerun making fun of a ginger whose hair color is remarkably alike a CIA agent's he's yet to stop thinking about, when his phone rings. He's startled to discover it's a pakistanian number, his heart picking up speed as he hits the green button, 'cause who else would call him on his land line in the middle of the night if not her?

He answers, ready to be confronted with another of her crazy requests, but it's Jack. He realizes something is wrong ten seconds into the call. It takes no more than two for his heartbeat skyrocket after hearing the reason of the call. Two words, and then it's the closest he's even been of fainting.

"It's Maya."

* * *

He looks at himself in the mirror. His face is clammy, a bluish hue to it under the harsh bathroom lights. It shouldn't have affected him that much to know that she was almost executed outside of her own place, really. It wouldn't be like he hadn't seen it coming. He's been worried about her since the minute he boarded that plane back to DC. Still, the reality of almost losing her is terrifying. But she's alive, she's okay. She's coming home. He keeps repeating the words like a mantra until his hands stop shaking. She's okay. He'll see her in a few hours. _Fuck._


	2. Chapter 2

She stares at the mirror of her hotel room in frustration. DC is her home, yet it feels wrong. The cold feels wrong, the lack of sand in the air is making her twitchy. And to think she hated it when she first went to the middle east. Feels like a lifetime ago now.

She looks jetlagged. Her eyes have puffy purple bags under them, her lips are pale and chapped, like she's been sick. She can't remember the last time she wore makeup. Hell, she can't even remember the last time she so much as glanced twice at a mirror, let alone spend several minutes staring at it. She splashes water on her face, pinches her cheeks to make her look less like a walking corpse, tries to tell herself it's because it's her first day back and everybody is going to be paying attention, but even as she thinks it, it sounds ridiculous. She couldn't give two craps about what everybody thinks of her appearance, the reason she's considering putting on makeup is the same that made her jump out of bed an hour earlier than necessary even though she's just been through a 25 hour flight to get ready: Dan.

She knows it's ridiculous, knows she can't afford to be distracted, not now that her lead looks promising, now that people are giving it credit. Giving her credit. No, she can't afford to get involved now. But some lipstick wouldn't hurt, would it? Jessica would've wanted her to take care of herself, would've pestered her for it, actually. She smirks as she reaches for the vanity bag that the other woman had put together for her birthday one of those years, fishes for something that hasn't expired yet, spots a muted rosé that supposedly flatters her skin color. It will do.

* * *

He paces the lobby of the headquarters, resisting the urge to run his hands through his hair in anxiety. Clouds cover the sky, giving the gray morning a dull atmosphere, as it so often happens in this city. The lobby is mostly empty, more agents leaving their night shifts than arriving. He wonders if she is missing the ever present sun of Islamabad. Fishing for his phone, he pretends to be texting for the sake of appearance, knows it is ridiculous, but still can't shake off the feeling that everybody knows he's waiting for her.

It's absurdly early, but if he knows her at all, she will want to prepare, want to be on top of her game when the debriefing starts.  
He didn't sleep last night, couldn't even if he tried, not after Jack called saying that he was worried, asking him to keep an eye on her because she had been shot at - intensely shot at - but had refused the psychological evaluation she was entitled to, hopping in a plane back to DC the minute it became clear they wouldn't let her continue her investigation from there. Panic overcame him, the image of her small frame being perforated by bullets much too clear on his head.

On top of that there was the nagging on the back of his mind, the green monster of jealously telling him it wasn't Jack's place to be worried about her, to call asking him to watch over her like she was one of his belongings, as if they both didn't know she would be outraged if she ever found out about that call... unless. Unless he _was_ personally entitled to be worried, unless the time they spent there, only the two of them left from the original group, had led to more than a professional relationship and they were an unit now. It sickened him to the stomach just to think about it, but it enraged him even more to be jealous, like he had any right to be. So what if they hooked up? They were two consenting adults, on a shitty job in that god forsaken place. But even his own logic wasn't enough to quench his irrational desire to punch Jack in the face, put him through one of his persuasive interrogation methods until the man confessed he had touched her in a way Dan himself was never allowed to.

He smirked, shaking his head at the absurdity of his own thoughts, when he spotted a blur of red hair behind some cars in the parking lot, carried by the purposeful walk he knew so well, had stared at a number of times. His steps faltered and he suddenly felt like a deer caught in the headlights, standing there in the middle of the lobby like he had nowhere else to be. He really didn't think this through. Ridiculous.

His heart picked up rhythm when he heard her voice, couldn't quite get what she was saying over the bulletproof glass of the security gate. He turned around to see her arguing with a security guard, couldn't help but smile at that fierce little woman, a force of nature he's fallen in love with. Schooling his features, he walked over to the entrance, addressed the security guard without really acknowledging her presence, said she was to be cleared, her new identification already being made. He noticed from his peripheral vision that she did a double take, gave him a once-over and he suddenly felt really self-conscious about his pressed suit, his tidied up hair.

She looked thinner, he noticed, a little worn out, but her hair and suit were impeccable. She smiled at him and he suddenly felt the urge to run his thumb over her lower lip and that adorable dent in her chin. Oh, this was going to be hell.

"Good to see you in one piece."

"Yeah." She tucked her hair back, her other hand fidgeting with her keys. "Glad to be back." But it didn't looked like she meant it.

They fell into stride toward the elevators, making small chat to wait for its arrival. She seemed stiff, even more so when he touched her back as they were entering the elevator. Soon they were joined by other agents, and then she was being led away to meet the tech team who would be assisting her in the surveillance of her carrier guy. He was left standing there, the old feeling of muted rejection thawing around the edges.

* * *

It's nighttime again when his phone chimes, but this time it's her.

"Hey."

"You refilled my bowl of candy."

"How can you be so sure it was me?"

There was a pregnant pause. He could almost feel her pointed stare.

"Ok, I did. They seem to be the only thing you eat, so I didn't want you to starve."

"You don't have to take care of me, you know." Her voice was softer now. It made him brave.

"I know, but I want to."

She remained silent. He decided to push.

"Where are you?"

"In my room."

"Hotel room?"

"Yeah. Didn't get a chance to start looking for an apartment yet."

She had been back for one week already, but he knew better than to remind her.

"Have you eaten dinner?"

"Yeah."

"Liar." She exhaled, he imagine her closed lip smile. "I have some real food in here. Made it myself. You could come by, we'd eat it together."

"Since when do you cook?" It didn't slip by him that she avoided answering his question.

"I'm a man of many talents." He could hear her huff on the other end of the line. "Come on." He hated that it sounded like a plead. The silence stretched.

"Give me thirty minutes."

* * *

She shows up at his door, precisely 29 minutes later. He had put the lasagna in the oven, changed shirts and washed his face in the first ten, spending the rest of the time pacing back and forth. Like this was a date. She greeted him with a tight smile and held up a six pack that he took to the fridge while she took off her jacket. He'd never seen her in a tank top before, not even in the blazing pakistanian heat. He found himself entranced by the thin straps that showed so much of her, her collarbones stretching her skin as she freed herself from the arms of the garment.

They ate side by side on his kitchen counter, their bare forearms touching, the longing inside him welling up so much he didn't think he'd have space for food. The muted television showing the late night news casted an almost ethereal glow over her skin, and when she started talking about the case he didn't quite catch the first three sentences. They spinned theory back and forth for hours.

It was just over three when she left, barely having touched her beer. They walked down the stairs together, he insisted on getting her to her cab. "You can never be too careful", he said, even though he knew it was just an excuse to spend as many time with her as he could get. She opened the door to the vehicle and just stood there. His mind conjured up an image of him kissing her goodnight. He just nodded, too scared of doing anything that would push her away, and watched when after a hasty "G'night", she entered the cab and disappeared into the night.

He didn't like this love, it made him stupid.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **_Hey, guys! Sorry for the delay. Here's the next chapter. I'm going to start counting the time like Maya did (expect I'm not heatedly writing it on George's glass with a sharpie, lol), starting at the day they found the compound, just like the movie. Also, if I mention some detail you don't quite remember, it's because it's from the movie script. If you wanna read it too, it can be found in Sony's website. Enjoy!_

* * *

**Day 1**

Maya lifted her head as her last coworker in the room started to head home. It was past ten o'clock and she was getting beyond frustrated with the lack of news from Islamabad. She hated to think that her leaving had led to the search for Abu Ahmed to cool down. She knew Jack and the guys would keep going for her, but it wasn't entirely up to them. If only she'd been more careful, she wouldn't have been shot at, wouldn't have needed to leave the country in such a haste.

Leaning back in her chair, she pushes the heels of her hands into her tired eyes. What a shitty day. She'd gotten close to zero sleep last night, having stayed up until four in the morning. Dan had invited her over for raviolis (he was big on Italian food, apparently), but she declined, said she needed sleep, when in reality it was because it would've been the tenth time she went to his place in a twenty day time span, and that somehow freaked her out. Really, at this pace, next thing she knew they'd be living together. So she decided to stay at her own place, but her initial plan to get a good 10 hours sleep foundered prettily, because they ended up talking on the phone all night.

Their relationship was changing, she could tell. Their conversations outside of work had been gradually shifting from professional to personal. They didn't talk so much about the case as they talked about sports, television, things they missed about Pakistan, things they could be doing right now had they never been recruited by the CIA. In the last one, they often were conjured up together: Physicists developing nanotechnology, astronauts exploring the outer space. They chose to ignore the fact that they probably would've never met if it wasn't for UBL and the CIA, because it was selfish, attributing the upside of her life to something that took away the lives of thousands.

She wondered if he had gone home already. If he would call her tonight. Getting up, she walked to the window and sure enough, his car was still in its spot. She hesitated for a moment or two before gathering her things and heading for his office. Maybe they could get a drink somewhere this time, in some place neutral, some place that didn't smell like him, some place where they wouldn't be alone and she wouldn't be tempted to do things she knew she shouldn't. Yeah, a bar sounded like a good idea.

"Hey." He looked up from a report, brow furrowed, mouth twisted in a frown. She suddenly didn't feel so confident.

"Yeah?"

"Are you heading home soon?" He didn't put the report down. She almost told him to forget it.

"Not yet. Why?"

"Do you want to go for a drink?" She blurted it out all in one breath. God, why was her heart beating so fast?

"Like in a date?" He smirked.

"No." It was a knee-jerk reaction. But she could see the quickness of it hurt him. She wanted to fix it, but a date was too much. "No, just drinks after work."

"Do I get to pick the bar?"

"I was thinking about the one down the street, actually. "

"No, all the agents go there." He got up, picked up his suit jacket, stared at her. "My bar or no bar."

"Okay. Your bar."

* * *

She tailed his car for a few blocks before they stopped in a square of sorts with bars that actually had tables on the sidewalk. The whole street had a bohemian vibe to it. She let her hair down before meeting him outside of a two-story townhouse that had been turned into a pub. The music was loud even outside, so he inclined his head towards the interior and offered his hand. Hers was shaking when she reached for it.

They went straight to the stairs, his hand so big and warm wrapped around hers she barely registered anything else. He showed her to a stool at the bar, one high enough her feet couldn't reach the floor. She sat, her eyes scanning the surprisingly clan counter top. The music up there was low enough they could talk without yelling, but high enough they had to lean in close to hear each other. He ordered for her, explained himself immediately, like he expected her to call him out on it. She normally would, but not tonight.

"It's irish. I think you'll like it."

"Will I?" She leaned in closer. His eyes made a quick dash to the top of her dress shirt. Less than a second, then they were back at her face, but not fast enough she didn't see it. It didn't bother her. In fact, she felt like smiling. So she did.

"I bet you will." He smiled too. "What?"

"Nothing." She turned to see their beers being served. In pints. Huh. She never tasted a beer she wouldn't drink out of a bottle or can. "That's our drink?"

"Yeah. Cheers." He lifted his pint. She lifted hers.

"Cheers."

* * *

The foreign beer turned out not bad at all. Dark, heavy, and richly flavored. They continued to talk and drink until someone changed the song. This one was slow paced, a ballad, but she could distinguish guitar strings. It was good. She never heard it before, but Dan was singing along to it. God, he was handsome. He looked more like when she met him tonight, hair a little disheveled, the top buttons of his white shirt undone, the cuffs up 'till his elbows. He seemed to fit right into this place. Unlike her, always the outcast, even though they were wearing virtually the same outfit. She smirked. Dress shirt and slacks. The irony wasn't lost on her.

"Let's dance."

"What?" She was shaken out of her reverie by that one. _Dance?_

"Yeah, come on." He was already getting out of his stool.

"No. Absolutely no."

"Why not?"

"I don't dance."

"Bullshit. Everybody dances. Let's go." He grabbed for her hand, gave it a light yank. His other was already reaching for her pint. "I'll lead."

Before she could really think of an acceptable excuse, he was already pulling her to a makeshift dance floor where some couples rocked together to the slow beat of the music. Why did she think a bar was a good idea again?

"Dan, I really don't think this is a good idea."

"Just go with the flow, Maya. Loosen up a bit once in your life."

She was mildly offended by that, but really, when his hands slid around her waist, so strong and sure, all she could do was link her own hands behind his neck. God, this was intimate. She was at eye level with his Adam's apple, their height difference accentuated by their closeness. His scent invaded her senses, made her dizzy. They started rocking slowly to the song. She closed her eyes, trying desperately not to step on his toes, to stay in rhythm, but he was a good dancer, his hands on her waist leading where he wanted her to move. It almost made up for her nonexistent dancing skills, so much that after a while it was easier to relax, let herself be taken over by the music and his body, so close to hers.

"See? I told you. Everybody dances." His voice was low and whispered, so close to her ear his breath tickled her neck. She exhaled, the sensory overload knocking down her stiff control, and nestled her head at the crook of his neck, coming closer still, so much that every contraction of his abdomen muscles reverberated through hers, their legs tangling, the dancing subdued to a slow rocking. She could feel her emotional barriers crumbling.

* * *

He felt as if she was a butterfly that had landed on his hand, as if the slightest abrupt movement would scare her away. The warmness of her skin seeped through her shirt, burned his palms. He couldn't believe she was in his arms, her body molded into his, her scent surrounding him.

His heart was beating wildly, so tight with barely repressed longing. He was trying to hold himself back from doing something stupid such as kissing her, but nothing had prepared him for the reality of her embrace, the rightness of it. It was almost impossible to resist. And she was the one who came closer, leaned her face on his shoulder. Her hand was fiddling with the hairs at the back of his neck, making him get goose bumps all the way to his hands. This was torture.

He leaned down, turned his head to the side, his lips barely touching her jaw. Her movements faltered, but she didn't pull away. He needed more of a confirmation, though, couldn't risk misinterpreting her signs, ruin this fragile thing they've been carefully building.

"Maya."

"Dan." She anchored herself to his neck, pressing their bodies together as she got to her tiptoes, all of her so close now that he couldn't resist her even if he tried. Her response was soft, whispered, not even a sentence, but it said all he needed to know.

"Oh, Maya..."

He ran his hand up her back, his nose buried in her hair, mouth pressed hard against the soft skin bellow her ear, could feel the shiver that ran violently through her body all the way down his own. He gripped the back of her neck, pulled away to connect her mouth to his -

Then her phone, trapped in her front pocket between their bodies, started to vibrate. She pulled away, eyes wide, cheeks flaming, as if she'd gotten ripped out of some kind of trance. _Damn it._

"I... I gotta take this." And as she disappeared towards the bathroom, he was left there standing alone, embarrassment eating at his insides, thinking about this fucking phone call that blew their moment into pieces. He had to fix this.

He went after her, planning to apologize, even though he wasn't sorry at all. But he would do whatever it was necessary to mitigate the damages this whole night could cause to their relationship. He just hoped she didn't shut him out, went back to her shell. Turning around the corner, though, he was confronted with a vision he didn't expect at all: A beaming Maya talked on the phone, eyes closed, almost jumping off the floor in excitement. He was stunned, never having seen her so happy about anything. His curiosity got the better of him and he came closer, trying to hear what she was saying.

_"Don't fuck with me... Are you sure?... Holy shit... Yeah, I'm on my way... Thanks, Jack, you're the best!"_

_Jack._ It was all clear now. Clear as the fucking blue sky. _Jack._ He couldn't believe it. She'd got to be shitting him. _You've got. to be. fucking. shitting me, Maya._

* * *

She turned, so happy, almost running into a very angry looking Dan. Her smile faded. What happened?

"Listen, I gotta go back. Just got a call from Islam-"

"Was that Jack?" He'd never addressed her in such a rude way. She suddenly felt like one of his interrogation subjects.

"Yeah! They found the compound, Dan! They just found it!" She smiled again, _finally _she could move forward with her investigation, but Dan didn't seem to get it.

"Do you miss him?" _What the hell?_

"What? Did you listen to what I just said? They found the compound!"

"It's a simple question, Maya. Do you miss Jack?" She didn't have time to do this. She had to go back to the station right now.

"Hell, of course I miss Jack. He's my friend. Where is this coming from?"

"Is he? Your _friend_? The way you and I are friends?"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" She didn't like the tone of this conversation at all.

"You know what? Forget it. It's none of my business." He turned to leave, but she wasn't going to let him off the hook that easy. He started it, he would finish it.

"What _exactly_ is none of your business?" She stalked closer, eyes strained on him. "What are you saying here, Dan?" He exploded.

"Do you ever wonder what I had to go through to get you that fucking number, Maya? The shit I had to put up with? Or did you think the Wolf would just hand me over a Lamborghini's worth of taxpayers' money, no favors asked?" He was livid now. "But I did it anyway, didn't I? _Moved heaven and earth._" His smile was cynical. "Did _I_ get a phone call? A smile? A fucking text saying 'Thank you, Dan'?"

Guilt struck her. She remember being so excited when she went to work that morning and found a team already working on the phone calls, so eager to get down to business, it went right over her head. But _of course_ she was thankful. She never took his efforts for granted.

"Dan, I-"

"Shut up, Maya, don't try to make some lame excuse for what's right under our noses." Her anger rose again, skyrocketed. _Who the fuck did he think he was to tell her to shut up?_ "You think I don't know what's going on between you two? Huh? You think I'm stupid?" He waited a beat. "I'm tired of your little game. I'm fucking tired of being kept at arms length while good ol'Jack gets the golden treatment, even when he is a fucking ocean away and I'm _right here_." Some drunk customer stumbled his way past them. They continued to stare at each other. "But you know what, Maya? Have it your way. Fuck whoever you want. I don't give a shit. But you're not going to manipulate me to get what you want anymore."

Maya stared at him, outraged. What kind of girl did he think she was? She wanted to explain, tell him she and Jack were just friends, always have been, but the furious side of her wanted to hurt him as much as he was hurting her. So she pushed past him, making a bee line for the stairs, then her car. The only way she could forget this whole fucking mess of a night was burying herself in work. She looked through her rear view mirror as she sped off towards the headquarters. He hadn't followed her.

Her fingers gripped the steering wheel so hard her knuckles were white. She was fighting hard to stay on top of her emotions, but her eyes burned with unshed tears. Damn him, he should know better. After all the time they've known each other, he _should fucking know better._ But she deserved it, didn't she? Was paying the price for letting her guard down. She didn't know what she was thinking, what had possessed her to think this -them- could actually _happen_.

But it didn't matter now. She had a bigger task at hand. _It didn't matter._

She wondered how many times she would have to repeat it before she would start to believe it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Day 21 - Langley**

That first week after the fight, she expected him to come to her cubicle or call her in the middle of the night, make up some lame excuse that would have to pass for an apology and they would proceed to pretend that the evening never existed. He didn't.

When she called herself a motherfucker in front of the director two weeks later, he looked at her, stunned and a little amused, not quite able to hide his smile, and she thought maybe, _maybe_ things would go back to normal eventually. She followed him out, managed to catch up with him on the staircase.

"Dan." He continued to ascend. "Don't you dare ignore me." That stopped him. He slowly descended, going back to her level, eyes menacing, like a predator stalking his prey. She stood her ground even when he was towering her like that.

"Yes?"

"We need to talk. In private."

"I don't have time for this."

"Well, make time!" Her voice came out a little louder than she intended, a little more shrill than she was confortable with. He looks around, as if expecting someone to be watching their exchange.

"Okay. Jesus, okay. But not at work. Don't do this here. I'll call you."

* * *

**Day 105 - Area 51 (Nevada)**

He never called. Every time they would cross paths in the lobby or in the parking lot or even in the cafeteria, he would do his best to ignore her, only acknowledging her presence in an official capacity, and even so, when it was strictly necessary, which, fortunately or not, turned out to be only three or four times in the course of the following weeks. She thought about calling him herself, but her self-esteem level wasn't running that low. Yet here she was, three months later, laying in bed in an hotel room in Nevada, feeling sorry for herself. Pathetic.

She was way past pretending she wasn't miserable. She got really angry at his disrespectfulness that first night, vowed to herself never to let him do this to her again, but as time gone by, after he would continuously give her the cold shoulder, she found herself revisiting their fight over and over, analyzing it like it was an interrogation tape to see if there was something she'd done wrong instead of forgetting about it and moving on.

The slow rhythm of her investigation wasn't helpful either. It left her with too much free time to sit alone in her apartment, missing those nights when they would sit on his couch, bare feet touching at the coffee table, listening to one of his records and eating the italian food he would claim to have cooked, but she knew was from the restaurant around the block. Missing that night when he held her close and she finally got the feeling she belonged somewhere.

But he got it all wrong, didn't he? She'd never been attracted to Jack. He was more of an older brother to her, and the man himself never made any advances on her. Their amicable relationship had been confused for something else before, though. Jessica had pointed it out that night at the Marriott, before the bombing. Maybe Dan wasn't so delusional. Maybe he had a point in being jealous. Not that it gave him the right to be an asshole, but still. He was probably still thinking she and Jack had hooked up. And she wanted to not give a fuck, wanted to not care about his opinion, but she did. She'd said it herself, she's not that girl that fucks, and she wanted Dan to know it, as ridiculous as it sounded. Wanted him to understand she would never let this thing between them even start had she been involved with Jack. But how, if he wouldn't even talk to her?

_Oh, for fucks _sake. She was tired of this bullshit. Why their situation was still so fucked up? It had been three months already, and they still eyed each other like strangers. Like they hadn't known each other for more than 8 years. Like they weren't in love. A chill ran down her spine at the very notion of it, but what good denying it would do her? She was in love with Daniel Staten, a CIA agent who had a PhD in Criminal Psychology and liked punk rock and irish beer. It was time to stop being a coward and do something about it. She had the guts to go against a lot of people every day, so why not take charge of her personal life as well? She scoffed at herself, putting on a shirt and tying her Chuck Taylors before heading out the door. A personal life. She never thought she would be the kind of person who had one, but it all changed that first year, when she met the only guy who hadn't tried to patronize her for being a female in the field. Who, except from that little outburst at the bar, had always respected her. Oh, if he thought he could get away with making her fall in love with him and then decide _he didn't give a shit, _he was so wrong. It was her turn to have an outburst of her own, and he would listen.

* * *

Dan got out of the elevator, loosening his tie with one hand. After several hours at the hotel bar, he decided he would rather go back to torturing _brothers_ than to be forced to sit through another four hour flight next to her.

This whole trip was being a strain in his personal control so far. He stayed away as long as he could to avoid crossing paths with her during their only night in Nevada before heading back to Langley the following morning, but as luck would have it, he turned around the corner of his room to find the woman herself leaning on his door. _Fucking perfect._

"Are you lost?" He fished for his key as she straightened, giving room for him to turn it into the lock.

"No, I'm here to talk to you." He scoffed. She ignored it, entering his room without waiting for an invitation.

"_Please, be my guest." _He couldn't help the sarcasm in his voice, hated the pettiness of his own actions. But really, what the fuck did she want? Why couldn't she leave him to lick his wounds in peace?

He watched as she eyed his perfectly made bed, taking a seat in the corner of it before waiting for him to finish taking off his jacket. He shunned his dress shirt too just to make her uncomfortable, and sure enough, when he pushed a chair to sit in front of her in his undershirt, arms bare, her eyes were drawn to his chest, a blush rising in her cheeks when she caught herself staring.

"So. State your request." He leaned on his elbows, face coming close to hers. He kind of hoped she would slap it just so he could have a renewed reason to hate her, because right now he was having a hard time remembering the original one.

"Dan." She exhaled, looked frustrated, exhausted. He wanted to think it was because of their time apart instead of the hunt she'd been conducting over the last years, but he knew better. Regardless, he felt the urge to hug her, take care of her, make it all go away. She looked so young and fragile hunched over herself in her worn jeans and sneakers, yet her eyes looked a hundred years old.

"I never slept with Jack." She blurted it out, stunned him. She could certainly get to the point, couldn't she? Hope sparked in his chest at her confession, at her need to let him know, but he still waited, cautious, wouldn't risk reading too much into it. "We're just friends, always have been." At his silence, she continued. The dam was open now. "I also never forgot everything you did to help me, I just. I always thought you didn't care about it. The recognition. The praise. So I didn't bother."

"And you felt the urge to tell me all this now because..." He urged, wanted to get as much as he could from her honest moment.

"Because I miss you." It was simply stated, and it took his breath away. "Everyone I ever cared about in this job is either dead or still in Islamabad. You're the only one I have. I can't stand this anymore, Dan. Don't you miss me?" Her eyes were suspiciously shiny. He reached for her hand.

"I _don't_ care about praise or recognition. But you ought to know I wouldn't drag my ass to Kuwait for just anyone, Maya." She laughed, turned her hand in his, gripped it.

"I know." She was steadier now. Good. He didn't think he could deal with a crying Maya. "I know and I appreciate it, Dan."

"I'm sorry I was such a dickhead that night. I was way out of line."

"You were jealous." It sounded more like a challenge than an excuse. But she didn't seem to be bothered. She was past pretending they were just friends, then. So was he.

"I was mad jealous." He smirked, looked down at their joined hands at her lap. His almost engulfed hers, so small, her thumb tracing patterns on his fingers.

"So we're good?" He looked up to find her biting her lip, uncertainty radiating from her in waves. Jesus Christ, she was _fucking gorgeous._ Sitting in his_ bed._ How was he supposed to be a gentleman here?

"Yeah." Her face blossomed up in a million watt smile. It stunned him how, just like that, the weight of the world had been lifted off his shoulders. "But I do believe we have some unfinished business."

* * *

_A/N: Cliffhanger! Arrrgh! hahaha_

_ I'm thinking about taking this story to the M department. What do you guys think? Leave me a review! Xx_


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: Hey, guys! Sorry for the huge delay, real life got in the way, but now I'm only two weeks away from Easter break, so hopefully the story will continue to be posted twice a week. Hooray! _

_Also, this chapter is rated M. Kiddies, stay away. To the rest of you naughties, enjoy!_

* * *

**Day 105 - Area 51 (Nevada) - Cont.**

_"I was mad jealous." He smirked, looked down at their joined hands at her lap. His almost engulfed hers, so small, her thumb tracing patterns on his fingers._

_"So we're good?" He looked up to find her biting her lip, uncertainty radiating from her in waves. Jesus Christ, she was fucking gorgeous. Sitting in his bed. How was he supposed to be a gentleman here?_

_"Yeah." Her face blossomed up in a million watt smile. It stunned him how, just like that, the weight of the world had been lifted off his shoulders. "But I do believe we have some unfinished business."_

* * *

"What kind of unfinished business?"

She watched as he got up, walked to his bag, bent down to fish something out of it. The man ought to start answering her questions, really.

"Dan!" He turned back to her with an iPod, one hand scrolling through it while extending the other in silent invitation. "What's happening?" Brows furrowed, she slowly approached him, took his outstretched hand.

"We never got to finish that dance." His grin was playful when he led her hand to his neck, offered her an earphone. It was playing the same song they danced to at the bar. Her heart swelled.

* * *

He was so used to seeing her bossing everyone around that the realization she was short enough he could easily rest his chin on top of her head always came as a surprise. She was such a force of nature it was easy to forget she was only 5'3". He smiled, burying his head in her silky hair as they rocked together to the song playing directly in their ears. It could easily become his favorite tune in the world.

"What?" The sound came muffled from her own mouth, pressed against his bare collarbone. He'd never been more glad he showered.

"You're so short." She scoffed.

"Still could take you down." That got a laugh out of him.

"No, you couldn't." Even picturing her small frame trying to tackle him was funny. "I bet the last time you had to beat someone you were still in training. You're a desk agent, Maya, face it." She huffed, stomped on his toes. "Hey! No mauling."

"I'm sorry, agent sensitive. Do you want me to kiss it better?" Her tone was filled with mockery.

"Oh, I'm all in for anything that involves us and kissing." She was silent for a beat.

"Then how come you're still talking and not kissing me?" He was surprised at her boldness, leaning back to access the seriousness of her statement. He met her eyes, and the playfulness was gone.

"You know what, you're absolutely right." His words were whispered as he leaned closer, never breaking eye contact. Their foreheads touched as his nose brushed hers, breath washing over her face, mouths separated by less than an inch. His whole body was coiled in tight anticipation.

"Wouldn't be the first time." Then her lips found his, and the world started spinning.

* * *

She could feel her body turning into liquid. Eight years of longing led to this moment, his mouth hot on hers, hands gripping her hips as she all but hung from his neck even in her tiptoes. He was at least 8 inches taller, and her flat sneakers didn't provide much of a leverage.

His tongue teased her lips, forcing her mouth open and finding hers, stroking, tangling. A moan was heard and it took her a while to realize it was her own, the sound so foreign to her ears. Her hands slid from neck to his face, to his shoulders, trying to find purchase, her hips pushing into his. He gripped her waist, then her ribs, gave them a warning pull before lifting her off the ground completely in one swift move, like she weighted nothing. Her legs wrapped around his waist by instinct but, oh, this was much better. She pulled at his hair, angling his head up before attacking his mouth again, the hunger inside her escalating, taking over her senses.

She realized through the foggy haze of desire that they were moving, and then she being laid down on a mattress, the solid press of his body pushing her down into his _bed_. No, this was going too fast,_ too fast_, but then his mouth descended on her neck, bit on her collarbone. He had a talented tongue. She wanted it elsewhere.

His hands skimmed across her exposed stomach, lifter her shirt higher. She was having a hard time gathering her wits with him touching her like that.

"Dan..." He mumbled something unintelligible, mouth coming up to do all kinds of devilish things to her ear, his thigh wedging itself between hers. _Oh_."Dan, no." He left her skin in a millisecond. She looked up to find him staring at her, wide-eyed and out of breath, as if she'd just scared the shit out of him. It would've been funny hadn't she been on the verge of an anxiety attack herself.

"What? What? Do you want me to stop? We can stop." His words were rushed out, hands leaving their dangerously high position up her shirt to the sides of her head as if to prove his point, holding himself up by the elbows.

"No, I just." She reached for his face, fingernails scraping through his beard. "I want to make sure that when we go back tomorrow... I don't want us to grow apart because of this." He smirked, and she suddenly felt very clingy, hated herself for needing to be reassured. "Don't make fun of me."

"I'm not. I'm not, believe me." He shook his head disbelievingly. "Maya, there isn't the slightest possibility of something like that happening. You're stuck with me, regardless of what happens tonight. Which can be nothing if you want to."

She smiled, feeling the tension fade away. He smiled too, so handsome and goofy hovering above her, what else could she do if not kiss him again?

* * *

Their kiss was tender this time, the urgency somewhat placated now that they knew for sure this wasn't a one night stand. He had his own apprehensions when she kissed him, part of him fearing that this whole night would somewhat end up with her realizing this was a mistake, that keeping a friendship was the safest bet. But he decided he would take whatever he was offered, whether it'd be only one night or, hopefully, many more to come. How stunned he'd been when he realized she had the same reservations. When he thought about all the pain they would've avoided had they been honest with each other from the start instead of trying to read in between the lines...

But they were here now, weren't they? It all led to this point, to her body soft and pliant under his, her hands running through his hair as she explored his mouth, her scent all around him. He couldn't get enough of her, couldn't decide where to touch, where to kiss first. She bit on his lip, hard, smiled when he grunted in pain, soothed it with her tongue. Her hands explored his neck, squeezed his muscular arms. She pulled at his shirt, untucking it from his trousers, her cool fingers running through his chest, making him shiver as she tugged it up and over his head. He looked down at her, lips swollen, chest heaving, his hands coming up straight under both her shirt and tank top as he attacked her neck this time, hands faltering when he found nothing else underneath her tank top. She moaned, pushing her bare chest into his hands, and the tightness in his pants became almost unbearable.

"Don't give me a hickey." He smiled, licked the spot he'd just been sucking at.

"I won't." He bunched her shirts, pulling them over her head at once. Her red hair spread around all over his pillow, contrasted with the pristine whiteness of her skin. Gorgeous. He looked down at her chest, licked his lips in anticipation. "At least not anywhere visible."

Her breath stopped then rushed out at once when his mouth came down on her breast. Her hands pulled at his hair as he swirled his tongue over and over. She writhed underneath him, leg coming up to lock over his hip, pushing it down with her calf, seeking friction. He gave her other breast the same amount of attention before kissing his way down her belly, could feel her abdomen muscles quiver as he passed her belly button, hands coming down to pop the button of her jeans, unzipping them, the sound loud in his ears as he dragged his bearded chin across her lower belly, eyes glued to her face. Her mouth was half open, eyes hazy with desire. He pulled her jeans down her legs, continued to kiss her thighs before sitting back on his calves to deal with her sneakers, untying the laces of one shoe before looking up to find her unabashedly staring at the bulge in his trousers, all shyness gone. He finished getting her out of both shoes and jeans, his nimbleness impaired by the view laid out before him. He never imagined that the uptight agent he'd come to know could look so wanton, but damn it if it wasn't the sexiest view ever.

"You're gorgeous."

"You're not so bad yourself." She smiled, lifted her hands. "Come back here." So he did.

* * *

The hot press of his bare chest against hers contrasts with the coldness of his belt buckle pressing against her belly button. Why he still has his pants on is lost on her, but easily fixable. She runs her hands down his chest, feeling the tautness of his muscles, reaches his pants, managing to open and shove them just past his butt cheeks before she can't resist anymore, slips her hand inside his boxers, finds him hard as iron, huge, ready for her. His moan goes straight from his mouth to hers, never escaping their fused lips. The ache deep in her belly increases, tightens her insides.

Her hands leave him to get rid of his boxes. He raises on his elbows to kick them off the rest of the way and she looks up to find him taking a downward sweep of her, pupils so huge she almost can't see the blue of his irises, looking like he can't decide what to do to her first. She cups his chin, pulls him for a kiss but it's not long before he is sliding down her body once again, his mouth everywhere, fingers flirting with her sides, dragging her underwear down when they reach her hips, propping his face on her pubic bone when he tosses it away, eyes never leaving hers. He slides lower, chin pushing against the vee of her crossed thighs and she realizes what he's up to, eyes bulging out involuntarily, but he gives her no time to be nervous, hands spreading her knees, pulling them over his shoulders and then his mouth is on her, dragging waves of pleasure from her body one flick of his tongue at a time.

She moans, hands desperately gripping the sheets, then his hair, trying to find purchase as she squirms, back arched, hips pinned down to the bed by one of his hands while the other joins his mouth, first one finger, then two, curling inside of her. She whispers his name, black spots dancing at the edge of her vision when she looks down, finds him watching her, tries to hold his stare but it's too much, _so good_, her eyes closing, head falling back as her whole body convulses, the world turned into white noise after she shatters, legs clamped around his head as her hips lift off the bed, the storm of her orgasm rolling hot and loud in her veins.

* * *

He lets her ride it out, waits until her body goes limp before crawling back up, watches the rise and fall of her chest, sweeps the hair out of her sweaty forehead. She opens her eyes and they're hazy, unfocused. He can't help the swell of male pride that takes over him at seeing her so completely undone, can't quite suppress his grin.

"Oh, don't look so smug." He smiles, presses a kiss to her shoulder blade.

"You know, it's hard to sound chastising when you're still panting." She laughs, and when it subdues to a closed lip smile for a minute he thinks she looks like a woman in love, regarding him with so much affection. Or maybe it's just his brain playing tricks on him. Nevertheless he smiles back, sliding his arms under her shoulders, hands framing her face as her fingers scrape lazily through his hair. He closes his eyes, looking like he might start to purr at any minute, makes her laugh.

"What?"

"You look very cozy for someone who has _unfinished business_." He wants to prolong their times together as much as he can, but she seems impatient.

"We've got all night long."

"We've waited long enough, Dan. Now, _now_." And she kisses him, hands running down his back, squeezes his butt cheeks, smiling into the kiss when he jumps slightly. His restrain is waning, all rational thought leaving his mind when her hand finds him trapped between their stomachs, pumps one, twice, thumb running through his tip before positioning him at her entrance. He pulls back, wants to look at her, all kinds of love declarations trapped in his throat, wanting to be said, but not yet. One day, but _not yet_. He pushes inside of her slowly, mouth falling open against hers at the exquisite feeling of her, so hot, so tight. Her eyes close, mouth twisting in a frown and he stops, immediately concerned, tries to pull back, but her legs keep him locked in place.

"No, no, I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" He watches as she smiles at him, but her brow's still furrowed.

"Yeah, just. It's been a while. Give me a minute." He's still wary when she kisses him, not wanting to hurt her. A tiny voice at the back of his mind wonders how long exactly is _a while_, but he doesn't hold any expectations of ever asking her something like that and living to see another day.

So he kisses her back, long and deep, one hand at her waist, fingers digging into her skin as he holds himself from crushing her with his weight by the elbow beside her head. Her hands run through him, from his neck to his back and his chest, perusing, mapping his body. Her heels dig into his back and this time he finds it easier to slide deeper, pushing into her until their hips are flush, can't wrap his mind around how heavenly she feels.

"Jesus, Dan. You feel so good." He barely hears her whisper, kisses her neck, her jaw, her ear. "So good."

Their mouths connect again and he starts moving, slowly at first, careful of her, increasing his pace as her breathy pants turn into moans that reverberate through his body. Her legs lock around his waist, changing the angle of his thrusts and his skin prickles, the heavy pressure on his lower abdomen almost unbearable, pulling on his tight control. He slows his pace, afraid to embarrass himself like a teenager, but she's having none of it, her calf digging at the back of his knee before she flips them in one swift motion, her hands on his thighs, head thrown back as she rides him with abandon, her gorgeous body displayed to him and he realizes trying to slow it down is a lost cause, they can savor it next time, right now he wants, _needs_ to feel her coming apart around him, can't hold back much longer. His hand finds her center, fingers rubbing where she needs the most and her movements falter, her thrusts becoming uncoordinated and jerky, so he pulls her towards his chest, keeps going for her, red hair falling around their faces like a curtain as his hips surge into hers, five, ten more times before she tightens around him like an iron fist, inner walls convulsing and he finally let go, doesn't even feel when she bites his shoulder to keep herself from screaming as her orgasm hits her full force not long after.

* * *

His heartbeat under her ears was the only thing she could distinguish for several minutes.

She listened as it beat wildly when she laid her head on his chest, thoroughly spent.

She listened as it calmed down when his hands came up to stroke her hair. She didn't care that he was probably knotting it, couldn't even summon the willpower to speak. She knew they'd make a good team, but nothing had ever felt this good before. She felt like giggling, so light she could float away anytime.

She looked up at him, a mischievous smile on her lips as she took in his gasping mouth, tousled hair, found his blue eyes staring right at her.

"What?"

"You look like you've just been thoroughly fucked." He looks amused.

"Well, guess whose fault it is." She smiles against his chest, yelping when he rolls them so that he's on top again, plants smacking kisses on her lips. "You. are. incredible."

Her cheeks ache, not used to so much smiling, but the happiness continues to bubble inside of her, makes her loose-tongued.

" I've been wanting to do this for a long time." He smiled as he bites on her earlobe, nuzzles her neck.

"Maya, you have no idea." She runs her hands through his arms, his shoulders. He hisses, pulls back. She follows his gaze and finds a set of angry red marks shaped like teeth. Hers. Oops.

"You bit me?" He looks at her, eyebrows raised disbelievingly.

"Sorry about that." She tentatively touches his shoulder, looking up at him while her calf starts to run up his leg again. "How can I make it up to you?"

"Oh, I can think of a few ways."

They're smiling when he kisses her again.


	6. Chapter 6

Maya startles awake, head snapping up. As her minds clears from sleep, she realizes her chest is tight, has to struggle for air. _Dan._ Dan is crushing her. His naked front pressing against her back, his body all but on top of her. And he's _heavy_. She pushes him away, takes a deep breath, turning her head to see him rolling on his back, still fast asleep. His hair looks funny, spiking up at odd directions. She smiles, affection surging in her chest. Dan. Back when they first met, after seeing him questioning Ammar she would never have guessed he could be such a kind man, a dedicated lover. Her cheeks flame all over again as she remembers looking down to find his face between her legs. The feel of his fingers digging into her hips as he pushed into her, so impossibly thick that she couldn't handle it at first. The contentment of resting her head in his chest as they lay sated, then having him kiss her and fire up her insides all over again for a second time, then a third. She smirks. He certainly has stamina. She gets up, grimaces at the twinge between her legs. Well, it was a long shot to hope all those _vigorous activities_ wouldn't leave an impression.

She fishes for her phone among her discarded clothes. It's 4 am. If she comes back to her room right now the chances of running into one of the other agents leaving Dan's room in yesterday clothes are minimum. She eyes his sleeping form, sheets riding low on his waist, showing his defined chest, tattooed arm. She considers her clothes once again. Then slides back in the covers with him.

* * *

He wakes up from a dreamless sleep. No nightmares. Uh. That's a first. He stretches, hand bumping into something warm, and it all floods back: Maya showing up at his door, the talking, the dancing, the _sex_. The incredibly great, mind-numbing sex. He opens his eyes, finds her asleep, her naked back to him, hair spread all over his pillow. He wants to stay in bed with her until they have to leave for the airport, but they can't, not with fucking George three doors down from his room.

"Maya." He presses a kiss to the back of her neck, can't help himself. "Maya, wake up."

She stirs, presses herself to him, so he holds her, the hand on her stomach keeping her flush against him, her body so soft, so warm. But they don't have the time for sleepy morning sex. He pulls her to face him.

"Hey." She smiles, stretches like a cat woken from a nap.

"Morning." He kisses her, morning breath be damned, runs his hands through her hair. "I hate to say this, but the sun is already up. You might wanna go back to your room now or you'll risk tripping into Hakim or George. They're on this floor."

"I know." She sighs, feet brushing against his under the covers. "Last thing I want is for one of them to see me doing the walk of shame."

He laughs, watches from the pillow as she gets up, stark naked, bends down to retrieve her clothes. "What a nice view to wake up to." She actually _blushes_, almost trips trying to slip into her jeans. He puts his pants on, waits by the door for her to finish tying her sneakers. She comes to him and they kiss. Her hands are warm on his back.

"See you downstairs."

"Yeah."

He opens the door, checks the hallway. Empty. She slips out, walking towards the stairs instead of the elevators, throws him one last look before disappearing around the corner. He closes the door, leans on it.

He doesn't like the way being in love makes him vulnerable. Yet he wouldn't have it any other way.

* * *

**Day 108**

Maya stares at her living room in frustration. The damn place is still almost empty, a couch and a coffee table the only furniture she owns. He'd never been to her place. No one has ever been to her place, really, so it's the first time in over three months that she considers how much her apartment doesn't look like a home. Its remarkable lack of furniture a contrast to her cluttered desk at work. Well, damn. It doesn't say anything about her that he doesn't already know.

She goes back to her room, checks herself in the mirror once again. She's wearing her most flattering sweater. And there's a push up bra with matching underwear beneath it. She can't help but feel a little ridiculous over her need to look good. It's not like he hasn't seen all of her already. He's coming over with dinner, the first time they will be alone since she left his room in nevada three days ago. There were stolen glances as they passed each other in the hallway, her bowl of candy being mysteriously refilled again, but she had been too caught up in the aftermath of their visit to Area 51, and he didn't push. She was glad he understood, didn't expect to be put in front of her work. She smirked. He knew her too well for that.

The doorbell rings, making her heart pick up rhythm. She opens the door and he's standing there, handsome as ever in his pinstripe dress shirt, a bag of takeout in one hand, flowers in the other.

"Hey." She smiles, taking the flowers he's offering. "Thank you. Come in." She heads for the kitchen, intent on finding a vase, but she doesn't own any. She opens her cabinet, fishes out a glass water jar. It'll do. He deposits their food on her kitchen counter, watches as she fiddles with the flowers, sticks them in jug, paper wrap and all. She points at their food.

"Do these need to go in the oven? 'Cause I don't own one."

"I don't think so. Doesn't matter. I'm not really hungry yet." She watches as he stares at her, doesn't know how to do this dance. They've eaten together so many times, but this time is different. Will she be able to handle this newfound intimacy? "I can hear you overthinking. Don't." She catches his scent when he approaches her and it reminds her of their night at a hotel room in the other side of the country, and it never fails to crumble her defenses. She can do this.

"Sorry." His eyes never leave hers when his hands sneak around her waist, pulls her to him. She licks her lips in anticipation.

"I missed you." He whispers against her lips, his nose rubbing against hers.

"Me too." She kisses him, long and deep, hands threading through his hair. Heat unfolds in her veins, hot and thick, and by the time their mouths part she's been hauled up to her counter, legs around his waist, his fingers digging into her butt as he presses their hips together - and he's _undeniably_ happy to see her. "You hungry now?" She asks, clings to his neck when he lifts her off the counter, heads for her couch.

"Not for food."

* * *

It was well past midnight when they finally made it to the bedroom. She'd never known how noisy her couch could be, how loud _she_ could be, and she was fairly certain they gave the neighbors something to talk about. They ate seated in her carpet afterwards, picking tuna rolls with their fingers directly out of the takeout box, before she stood, offered her hand and led him to her bedroom, sat him down on her bed, undressed him again.

Now, as they lay side by side, hands entwined in the space between their faces, she finds it really hard to remember why she fought this for so long. His blue eyes stare at her, bore into her soul, and they share the silence of her room until he starts to blink repeatedly, and she smiles, finds his sleepy self quite adorable, kisses him lightly before twisting to turn off her bedside lamp, feels his hand drift to her bare stomach, pull her to him. She's always hated snuggling, thinking it was suffocating and a general bother, but with Dan everything is different, she finds shelter in his arms, the only place in the world where she feels completely at ease. Like she belongs.

* * *

_A/N: Hey, guys! I promise the next chapter will be longer and have more character development, but until the end of this week I'll still be swamped with work. Plus, I thought we'd all appreciate a little fluff before shit goes down in the next chapter. _

_Don't forget to leave your thoughts ;) Xx_


	7. Chapter 7

**Day 126**

The ticking of his clock is loud on his empty apartment. Three hours. She's three hours late now. He doesn't doubt she's at Langley still, staring at the satellite feed as if waiting for fucking UBL to go out for a smoke. He's done being supportive, really. Every time she mentions the operation he has to restrain himself from rolling his eyes. That would certainly earn him a good dressing down. It's not that he doesn't believe her - he does. She damn good at her job, the best he's ever seen, but she's not a fucking clairvoyant. He could be somewhere else. They've been wrong before, and there were casualties, and she can't walk around saying they should drop a bomb because there's kids in there, innocent, clueless kids, and ten years ago he wouldn't have given a damn about them either, but that's exactly why he left Pakistan - too many years on this job could make you believe that innocent lives were an just collateral damage - and they're not. Too many years on this job could make you lose your humanity - and Maya was losing hers. She was obsessed, losing her focus. Or maybe he was the one getting too soft. He smirked. The cold dinner on the table sure was a fucking proof of that. When did he become the one who waits up? The one who gets stood up on dinner plans?

He eyed his phone again. Not a single text. It was so typical of her, yet it hurt him. He couldn't help it. If they made plans she should fucking commit to them. Or at least have the decency to cancel instead of just not showing up and leaving him hanging like a lovesick pup-

His doorbell startled him out of his own musings. _Finally_. He got up, walked to the door, swung it open to reveal an exhausted looking Maya, holding her bag like she dragged it all the way to his door. He was so pissed the sight of her didn't faze his anger like it did the last three times this happened.

"Sorry I'm late."

"'Late' doesn't quite cover it anymore, uh. I thought you wouldn't even bother to show up." He turned away for the door, expecting her to follow him inside, wasn't really in the mood for greeting kisses.

"I can go home if you want me to." He turned around to see her still standing at the doorway, her cool mask in it's usual place. It pissed him off how she never bought in in their fights, how she was always the calm one, almost detached, while he spilled his guts._ Fuck, Maya, do something. Take a fucking stand_.

"Well, do _you_ want to go?" She stared at him defiantly. The silence stretched. He expected her to turn on her heel and leave.

"No." Her shoulders slouched as she crossed the threshold, closed the door. "I said I'm sorry, Dan."

He opened his mouth, closed it again. Suddenly he didn't wanna fight anymore, like her tiredness was contagious. He pointed to the table.

"Eat something. I'm going to bed."

* * *

She swirled her fork in the spaghetti, pushed it from one side of the plate to the other. It was good, even cold. She thought about following him inside, but he was clearly still pissed at her, and she was starving. He made it for her after all. She sighed. What a fucked up mess. She once thought he was the only one who understood her, but he'd been giving her the same disbelieving looks that she got from everyone else whenever she brought up her theory. She's amazed he hasn't said anything yet. The Dan she's worked with side by side for so long wouldn't hesitate in calling bullshit on something he didn't agree with. But of course, they were together now. Which somehow managed to be both the greatest and stupidest decision they could made.

* * *

He listened to the sound of dishes clicking in the kitchen. She'd eaten, then. The apartment was quiet for so long he thought she'd left. He turned on his side, half of his face buried in the pillow. It smelled like her. He breathed it in, her scent like a balm to his anger. Her footsteps approached the bedroom, hesitating before pushing the door open. He waited, unmoving. She put her bag on the floor, undressed, her silhouette daunting him even in the nearly dark room, fished a shirt out of his drawer, downing it. He closed his eyes, tried to control his breathing, but she must have sensed he was watching her, because when she climbed in bed with him, pressed her chest to his, she had nothing on.

He kissed back, couldn't possibly resist the soft expanse of her body sprawled over his, her hands threading through his hair, knees settling on each side of his hips. He devoured her mouth, hands running down her back, squeezing her butt cheeks She rose on her knees to push his pajama bottoms down, but he coaxed her forward, desperate to taste her, kept pulling on her legs until they were on each side of his head. She gasped when his mouth found her center, relentlessly sucking and probing, her hands gripping his headboard, mouth open in a soundless "o", letting herself enjoy the feel of his talented tongue before she rose, turned around and shamelessly sank back into his mouth, pushing his head down. He pushed back, hands twisting her hips to a better angle. She lowered her torso, nipples dragging across his belly. He could feel her breath ghosting over him a second before her mouth closed around his tip, her tongue mimicking his pace, and he couldn't remember ever being so aroused. He increased his pace, alternating the intensity of his strokes, the way he knew she liked it, and sure enough, not long after she was trembling above him, her mouth sloppy on him, distracted, and it gave him satisfaction, the power he had over her, at least in bed if not anywhere else.

She tumbled to the side, spent, her hand stroking his thigh while she recovered her breathing. He sat up, watched her, eyes closed, mouth slack and chest heaving. So gorgeous. Impossible, frustrating woman. Her hand reached for his as she opened her eyes, and they stared at each other. There were so many things he wanted to tell her, yet none could make their way past his throat.

* * *

She tugged at his hand, urging him forward, wound her arms around his neck when he settled over her. They kissed, gentler this time, and he slipped inside of her slowly, setting up a languid pace that had her toes curling, his name pouring out of her mouth like a prayer. He entwined their hands above her head, never breaking eye contact, and she was overwhelmed by emotion, that four letter word echoing in her head, wanting to be said. She looked at him, hoped her eyes could convey what she couldn't say.

Her orgasm hit her on a sigh, her fingertips numb as she clung to his hand. She resisted the urge to close her eyes, watched as he moved, his nose brushing hers, the blue of his eyes the only thing she could see. She felt when emptied himself inside of her, the strain of his muscles in their effort not to crush her, tasted the sweat in his forehead when he nuzzled her neck. Moments like those, when their powerful connection made itself so obvious she could do nothing but let herself be amazed by it, were what kept her from acting on those fleeting moments of doubt when she thought being with him was making her lose sight of her priorities. She couldn't possibly hurt his feelings. Except she already had, hadn't she? Not showing up tonight - and the other night before that - had hurt him, she could see it clearly behind his aggressive behavior.

"Dan." She whispered in the darkness. He grunted, rolled off of her.

"Sorry. Crushing you."

"No." She followed, lying half on top of him, one hand supporting her head while the other toyed with his chest hair. He eyed her curiously, knew she wasn't a fan of pillow talk.

"I just." She paused, not knowing exactly how to phrase it. _I love you?_ She almost snorted. That would be a surefire way of fucking things up. She settled for a milder version of the truth. "I'm a very independent person. You know, in this job - I'm just not used to having someone to tell when I'll be home. It doesn't mean I don't appreciate it. I _am_ sorry I kept you waiting, just - bear with me for a while, okay? I _want_ to get used to it."

He considered her for a while. "I'm no better than you in this relationship dynamic, you know that. But I'm glad I have this card to play when I screw up."

She laughed, wiped the smugness out of his face with a kiss. They grinned at each other.

"You know I'm crazy about you, right?" She blurted, blushed like a tomato. His eyes widened almost comically, hands tightening their grip on her waist.

"I didn't know, but thanks for sharing." He hesitated. "I'm crazy about you too, My." She could feel the wild thump of his heart when she kissed him. It reflected her own heart, threatening to beat his way up her throat. "C'mon. Let's go to sleep."

"Really? Sleep?" She turned her back to him, hiding her smile. "You're getting old."

"_Old_?" He followed, pressing his front to her back until she was pinned down to the bed by his weight. She smiled, shivering when he pulled her hair aside, kissed down the nape of her neck until the base of her spine. She lifted her hips off the bed, whimpering when he licked the curve of her butt cheek, the sound muffled by the pillow that half her face is pressed into. His fingers found her, probing, teasing, a slow rub that had her panting in seconds.

"Dan, _please_." He rose on his knees, hands pulling at her hips until she was on all fours, his tip poised at her entrance.

"I'll show you who's old."


End file.
